


Change of Heart

by BarrysLightningRod



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 18:26:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7981633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarrysLightningRod/pseuds/BarrysLightningRod
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry dotes on Iris after she comes home from her all-girl bridal shower. Marriage is discussed. Written as a prompt response.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change of Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is meant to be a continuation of a brief headcanon/prequel about Iris's bridal shower which is linked at the top of the story text and can be read for context. I received a request to write about when Iris comes home after the party, and Barry sees her in her dress.

[Prequel Link](http://inksmudge.tumblr.com/post/148622306709/at-iriss-bridal-shower-the-guests-are-all-given)

“PLEASE tell me that’s the last of them,” Wally groans to Iris after zipping through the front door of her and Barry’s apartment, dropping the assortment of gift boxes and bags he was carrying onto the dining table that was topped with a large pile of presents from her bridal shower, an overwhelming majority packaged in various shades of silver and white. “Why do you have so many damn gifts anyway?”

“If you think this is a lot, just wait until we get married,” Linda cautions, following suit with a single large box under her arm, balanced against her hip.

“What??” Wally whips around to stare incredulously at Linda.

Linda sets the box onto the floor with a forceful exhalation and uses her foot to slide it under the gift table before facing Wally, arms folding over her chest. “Excuse me, but does the thought of marrying me shock you?”

“Naw. We all know that’s happening,” he waves a casual hand at which Iris snorts. “But the thought of having more items than this on a wedding registry sure as hell shocks me!”

“All I’m saying is, brace yourself,” Linda asserts with an air of haughtiness that confirms any future shock he may feel will have no impact on the length of her bridal registry list. 

“I don’t know why you’re complaining, Wally,” Iris says. “It took you ten minutes instead of ten seconds to move some boxes over?”

“ _Some_ boxes?!" Wally exclaims, flailing his hands wildly at the towering stack. “You and Barry already live together, so I don’t understand why you need even more things-”

“Shutup Wally,” Linda advises him. “Iris is the bride here and she gets to be spoiled rotten.”

Iris bites back the remark that it was actually Linda who was being excessive when arranging her bridal registry, but she doesn’t think that’s necessary to mention now.

“Thank you both for all your help,” Iris chimes instead before Wally can retort, although the gratitude is genuine. “And Linda, I honestly don’t know what I would do without you. I couldn’t have asked for a better party.”

"Let’s be real: you couldn’t have ended up with a more perfect bridal shower if anyone other than me had planned it,” Linda brags. “But I will admit it wouldn’t have turned out that way if the bride-to-be herself wasn’t my deserving best friend,” she beams, moving to hug Iris.

"Listen, when Linda and I get married, we’re using whatever service catered today,” Wally interrupts the sentiment between the two friends to insist seriously. “I ate all of your leftovers before coming here,” he explains offhandedly to a confused Iris. “Those deviled eggs may just be the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth…”

Iris fixes him with a stern glare over Linda’s shoulder. “I was saving those for Barry!”

"He’s not the only one around here with a raging Speedster appetite,” Wally states factually, not the least bit ashamed.

“Yeah, my man’s gotta eat too,” Linda contends, letting go of Iris to come up next to Wally, placing a hand on his stomach.

“Where is Barry anyway?” Wally asks. “I don’t think he deserves any leftovers for not coming out to help-”

“Wow. And I thought you looked good on my laptop screen.”

As though on cue, the three of them turn to see Barry standing in the doorway of the dining room clad in the same sweats he was wearing during the video chat session at the party, his eyes on Iris, an expression of absolute fascination across his features.

“Aaand that’s our sign to leave,” Wally nods hastily with no attempt to disguise his eagerness. “Bye Iris.”

“Yeah, see ya,” Linda agrees, grabbing Wally’s arm, just as ardent about getting out of there as he is.

“Sorry I ate all the leftover food!” he calls out as he vanishes from the room with Linda, not sounding sorry at all and leaving Iris alone with an awestruck Barry.

Barry eventually breaks the brief stillness that ensued after Wally and Linda’s swift departure.

“How is it that every time I think there’s no possible way you can be more beautiful, you manage to prove me wrong?” he raves as he approaches where she’s standing across from him, almost like he can’t resist an urge to be closer to her.

“Oh, stop.” In an attempt at nonchalance, Iris rolls her eyes, but she knows it’s because she can’t meet his own adoring ones. It should be easier to accept his flattery as time passes by and their relationship progresses, but somehow her physiology still betrays her after all these years, like it’s promising her she’ll always be reduced to a flustered state under his reverent gaze. Just the _feel_ of him looking at her is enough for her cheeks to flush and her heart to gallop.

When she’s bold enough to glance upward in his direction, she finds his face before hers, the corners of his mouth turned upward, enhancing the shining admiration of his pupils.

“I’m really not sure how I’m going to handle seeing you in a wedding dress,” Barry shakes his head. “How can you top this?” he marvels incredulously, eyes scanning her from head to toe.

Something in her stomach flutters at how spellbound he is, but she pulls herself together before she can succumb to being the object of his captivation.

“What do you mean by this?” she humors him. “The frizzy hair? This dress that I’m sure is only clinging to me because I sweat so much after all that dancing?”

“THIS,” he gestures to seemingly encompass her whole look, from her tousled waves down to the ivory beads of her dress, ignoring the frizz, sweat, and self-depreciation.

She loves him for being sweet, but it’s then that she senses the adrenaline of the afternoon wearing off and is abruptly struck with a deep, aching kind of fatigue.

“Well I’m sorry in advance, but I’m ready to take this dress off,” she laughs lightly. “So take in as much as you can.”

His smile widens. “This is more than enough.”

At that, she beams and tries to step forward, to kiss or hug or just touch him she isn’t even sure, but her legs are too sore from hours of movement in stilettos and she stumbles slightly. Luckily, Barry seems to catch on to her wariness and is instantly at her side.

“Tired?” he chuckles.

“More like exhausted.” She leans against him, thankful for the support, and for how warm and welcoming his embrace is.

And in that moment she’s even more grateful that Barry is as considerate and generous as he is fast, because before she knows it, she’s swept off her feet into his arms.

“Let’s get you into some pajamas?” he suggests.

“Mmm that sounds very inviting,” she hums, bringing her arms around his neck and resting her head onto his shoulder as Barry carries her to their bedroom.

He kicks the door open and carefully sets her on the bed before rummaging through the drawers. He pulls out pajama pants, which she recognizes as her favorite pair, and one of his STAR Labs T-shirts (somehow they had an unlimited supply of them no matter how many were lost in the laundry or ruined by Barry) chucking them at her. They hit her square in the face.

“Sorry,” he offers with a lopsided grin.

She sighs and pulls the clothes off her head. “I don’t even have the energy to be annoyed right now.”

Barry shuts the drawers and turns back to face where she’s perched on the bed. “As much as I’d love to see you in that dress forever, I can deal with watching you take it off,” he smirks, although he glances away bashfully, the color high in his cheeks.

Iris can’t help the swell of her heart: in his attempts to flirt seductively, he somehow still managed to be endearingly cute. She blames his boyish looks and overall timid disposition, but she certainly isn’t complaining. It also reassures her that even after knowing each other for so long and being set to marry, she’s not the only one between the two of them who can still be reduced to a blushing mess.

She finds herself wanting to capitalize off his shy demeanor (and his superhuman stamina, considering how drained she is). Instead of moving to peel off her dress, she bats her lashes at him wordlessly before stretching her arms outward, making sure to flash him as enticing a grin as she can muster.

He catches on to her intentions. “You want me to dress you?” he guesses, amused.

“Please.”

“I don’t recall this being under fiancé duties,” he teases, kneeling at her level to locate the zipper at her side.

“It is now,” she says simply, shifting so that he slides the dress off her with ease. She’s glad he has enough sense to drape it over the headboard of the bed so that it doesn’t wrinkle in the meantime.

“I’m okay with that,” he considers thoughtfully, eyeing her bare chest before bunching the T-shirt to better pull over her head. “What do husband duties entail then?”

“Keeping me naked,” is her muffled reply from under the shirt before she surfaces. A few strands of hair stick to her lips and she promptly spits to force them out of her mouth, eliciting a snicker from Barry.

“Not as pretty as I was before, eh?” she jokes.

His lips curve upward. “On the contrary, I think you look even better.”

She smiles, albeit with great effort, but it’s a smile all the same because Barry has that influence on her.

“Lay back for me,” Barry instructs softly, reaching for the pajamas pants.

She obliges, leaning backwards onto the mattress, stretching her legs out. For a minute, a tinted silence falls over them while Barry busies himself at her feet, Iris watching the way his slender fingers gingerly guide her legs into the trousers. His ability to work with so much care and precision when it comes to her is such a stark contrast to his usual clumsiness that Iris wonders how it’s possible for two opposing inclinations to coincide in one person. Her eyes shift from the movement of his hands up to his face, watching the way his lashes flutter with his periodic blinking, the way his strong jaw sets, the way his pink lips purse with just the touch of a smile that broadens as he glides the pants from her ankles up to her thighs.

“There,” he proclaims proudly, stepping back to admire his handiwork once the pajamas are fitted at her waist and she’s fully clothed.

She sits up abruptly and swoops forward to capture his lips with a kiss.

He’s still at first, with Iris realizing that she did take him by surprise, but his hesitation passes once Barry cups her face and reciprocates. Their tongues move together hazily and Iris feels a feverish zeal rush through her with each pound of her heart, up her chest, through her throat, to her lips-

“I want to get married now,” she breathes into his mouth.

He laughs but moves to kiss her again, this time with more tenderness.

“Patience,” is all he says when they break apart, his cheeks dimpling.

“How are you the more composed one when it comes to this?” she huffs in mock frustration, falling back against the bed. “You’ve wanted to get married since we were kids!”

“I’m not going to deny that,” he admits, a twinkle in his eye, yanking the bedspread out from under her supine form.

Iris rolls over so that he can pull back the covers completely. He waits until she springs back onto the exposed sheets to tuck her in before sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. He brings a hand to her head to stroke her hair as he watches her lovingly.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” he utters after some time, with all the devotion and conviction she’s ever heard. “But ‘wife’ is just another formality in my opinion.” His eyes crinkle. “You’re already so much more than that to me, and you always have been.”

For not the first time since she’s met him, Iris finds herself stunned into speechlessness, robbed of words she can usually find when it comes to an article or interview, words that earned her awards, promotions, career distinction, words that saved The Flash even.

“So yeah, I don’t need you to be my wife,” Barry continues. “BUT I do want a wedding,” he smirks. “No one or nothing will deprive me of seeing you in a white dress.“


End file.
